6. Wheeling and Dealing.

Ah, the halcyon days of adolensence. Gut wrenching fear of the opposite sex, the daily endurance test that was Secondary School, spots, lots of spots. Drizzly, grim, suburban streets and Chomp bars, dogs mess on school shoes and bigger boys. All of these dangers and many more lurked beyond my bedroom door. But when I returned home, fumbled for the light switch and slammed the outside world fimly outside, it all seemed very distant. There, illuminated by my desk lamp, was my world. A stack of games magazines, a Duke Nukem poster and my loyal PlayStation, just waiting to make everything better.

It was a chore of course, finding the money to pay for games. Once a week I'd run the gauntlet that was the Free Paper delivery round. Load up The Citizen with adverts and supplements on the dining room floor, moodily pack them into my luminous trolley and head off to a distinctly unfriendly housing estate. The scruffy and frankly terrifying children who populated it would almost burst with malicious delight as they saw my subdued frame turn the corner. Extra rounds were simply not an option as far as I was concerned, although I could have done with the money.

Oi! Come back with my trolley you cunts!

Thankfully, at around the same time, a shop opened in town. Sandwiched between a taxi firm and an army surplus shop in a ramshackle terrace, was Discount Entertainment, and emblazoned across the window in an enthusiastic script were the words 'We buy, sell and trade!' Over the course of about 4 years, that grubby little shop was my lifeline.

The only hitch was the scary, tattooed convicts behind the till. There was The Chuckle Brother, nicknamed privately by me on account of his borderline mullet, and there was The Greek, who had black hair and a moustache but wasn't actually Greek as far as I know. From what I heard of one sided telephone calls whilst fumbling inconspicously through boxes of MegaDrive carts, they were brothers and they hated pale, middle class gits like me. Which is suprising in a way, because pale, middle class gits like me were stupid enough to trade in their entire software collections for Time Crisis with the lightgun. For example.

We were going to put a picture of the Chuckle Brothers here, but Google provided
us with this nice picture of some wood instead. Frankly, we prefer it.

It was very much a double edged sword. One the one hand, without Discount Entertainment and it's mountains of crusty, fag smelling jewel cases I would never have experienced such a wide array of games. On my £4 a week wage (cue Hovis music), I doubt that I could have continued to fuel my habit at all. Whilst the rest of the world seemed to be busy with their brand spanking new triple A titles, I was discovering The Raiden Project, Crusader: No Remorse, The Legacy of Kain and many more forgotten gems. Without that shop and it's constant supply of what were in all probablility stolen games, reality would have slowley seeped between the cracks surrounding my bedroom door, outside would have gradually merged with inside. I needed that fix each and every evening to keep those teenage demons at bay.

Just look at their celebrity Northern teeth. You've paid for
that Premier League denistry with your children's cultural
futures. Money well spent we say.

On the other hand, Discount Entertainment consumed my money, enraged my parents (who weren't particularly keen on seeing the £45 game they gave me for Christmas gradually whittled down to something worth a tenner) and scared the hell out of me. The Chuckle Brother once chased me across the street; him thinking that I'd stolen something and me with no idea what was going on, just running for dear life. There were only so many times I could cower, wince and mutter an apology as The Greek snarled 'This isn't a fucking library you know'.

Pah. It was worth it.

That dependancy has flourished into a deep rooted love of videogames. I play them today not because they shield me from everyday life, but because they're fun; at the most offering a momentary escape from circumstance on a blustery winters day. Far from being the anti social barrier the traditionalists claim, in my post school years they have gained me whole new peergroups and fostered what I hope will be long serving friendships. Long may they rule.

TRUEMETALUK, February 2004

Comment Here.

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Things to 'Make' and 'Do'.

Tackle your fear of sex today.

Scary Chuckle Brothers fan site.

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